


Waiting, For Her

by Lyslani



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 19:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4637730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyslani/pseuds/Lyslani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor has been away from Skyhold for many weeks, and as more time passes, Commander Cullen is finding it hard to concentrate and sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting, For Her

**Author's Note:**

> Finally finished  
> As all the fandom knows, this story is so much more than these few paragraphs, but since my writing is sporadic and seemingly more excruciating than giving birth, this will have to do to start.

He turned again in his bed, hitting his pillow, frustrated by the lack of sleep. Lyslani had been gone for three weeks now. Her absence was slowly driving him insane. He had trouble focusing on his work and duties during the day, but at least there were other people around to pull him back to reality. The nights were worse. Alone with his thoughts, he was lost in memories of her: her smell, her smile, her warm silvery eyes, her pale skin, her gentle voice, her silky hair. He wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than obsessing over lyrium. But if she was winning, he guessed it meant he hadn’t pushed himself _too_ hard. But the night would be long. Again.

 

He grunted and finally acknowledged defeat. Swinging his legs off the bed, he got up, dressed and went out for a walk. Once on the battlements, he took in a deep breath. The hold was quiet. Except for sentries and a few stragglers, all had found their beds. He started to walk again. This part of the walkway always reminded him of their first kiss. He had been longing to taste her for so long. He shook his head. There were many reasons why they never should have kissed, but when he looked in her eyes at that moment, he had forgotten them all. Her eyes reminded him of the moon on a warm summer night: silvery but with a warm glow. He’d told her that once. She had laughed and said if she was the moon, then he was the sun, with his shiny pale locks and golden eyes. The thought of it made him smile.

 

He blinked and realized he had made his way to the gardens. Her gardens. He scanned the area and stopped at the little nook they used when they played chess. He shook his head. She had demonstrated a basic understanding at first, nothing more. He suspected both of them had been trying to lose, without being obvious about it. Looking back now, it was easy to see she was a masterful player. No one with less talent could have prolonged their game for so long without him winning.

 

Lost in his thoughts, his feet had taken him to her tower door. His brow furrowed in annoyance: hadn’t guards been assigned to this door? He made a mental note to speak to her Worship about her security. He sighed. He didn’t know why he was here. She was not expected back until late on the morrow; her rooms would be empty. He shook his head. What was this woman doing to him? He missed her, like nothing ever in his life. He berated himself for being a fool, and went through the door and up the steps that would lead to her chambers.

 

The room was airy and cool. The balcony doors had bee left opened. The room was simple and neat. She had had many fanciful decorations removed, much to Josephine's chagrin. He felt a sudden pang of guilt at being here, invading her privacy. Ever since stepping out of the Fade in the Temple of Sacred Ashes, she had laid herself bare and given everything she had and was to the cause. She had only asked that her rooms be kept private. He noticed a discarded shirt on the foot of the bed. He walked over, reached for it.

 

The fabric was light and soft. Pressing it to his face, he inhaled deeply. Although it had been three weeks, he could still smell her in the fabric: cool, crisp and fresh. Much like the mountain air around them, but with a floral note that teased at the edge of your senses. A flush of embarrassment spread over his face and necks he inhaled deeply again. Part of him wanted to take the shirt, keep it next to his skin, to have her close to him. Maker's Breath, he must really be going mad if he was thinking of stealing to feel better.

 

He steeled himself and placed the shirt back on the bed. He then turned on his heels and quickly made his way back to office. He forced himself back up the ladder and into bed. He punched his pillow in frustration, trying to find a comfortable position. Just one more night. But it would be a long one. Again.


End file.
